Celestial
by DJProfessorK
Summary: We don't know too much about Celeste's origins, but how did she become a runner? Ever wanted to hear about the beginning of the blond-haired speed demon? Prequel story about Celeste, each chapter details a mission Celeste took on before the events of the game. Non-sequential. Updating frequently.


**Chapter 1**  
**Dirty and Dangerous, but Alive and Wonderful.**

The first mission Celeste ever took as a runner was arguably the best possible mission to introduce someone to this hypocritically illicit world of free messengers. The objective was the building across the street. There was maybe a five-foot gap in between the building where she retrieved the bag (which was locked tightly shut, as is standard protocol) and the destination she needed to drop it.

It seemed too easy. It seemed dangerous to accept when it was clear that there was going to be trouble. But it also seemed like a test. Was this some sort of runner hazing ritual? Had Faith gone through this when she was going for her red glove? There was something special about this mission, Celeste could feel it. She just couldn't pin down exactly what it is. Her only option was to complete the delivery.

She adjusted the bag over her shoulder and jumped to the adjacent roof. Nothing out of the ordinary. The bag was to be placed inside the doorway of this building's roof exit, which was over in the corner. Celeste walked over to it and opened the door, finding herself at the top of a damp and dark stairwell. She placed the bag against the wall next to the door. Still nothing. She assumed it must have just been a simple delivery, something assigned to warm up the new runners. It made some sense; there must be deliveries this easy every once in a while. She turned back to the door she had just entered through and gave the handle a tug.

The door was locked. She pulled the handle harder and harder and it would not budge. In a small burst of anger, Celeste kicked the door, but it still didn't react. She had been locked inside. This was something.

"Mercury?" She attempted to contact her new boss on her transmitter. "I'm locked inside. This door isn't moving." It wasn't working. There was no response from the other side, and she couldn't even be sure she was using the high-end earpiece correctly. There weren't very many options. She could wait, or she could go down the stairs and try to get out on ground level. Waiting was not really an option, though. Waiting is never an option.

Celeste started to burst down the stairs, staying alert just in case this was a trap. After a few flights, she found another door. It looked the exact same as the one that led to the roof: thick, heavy, and with no way to tell what is on the other side. She turned back to the stairs and looked down through the center of the railings. It seemed endless. How many flights had she already descended? How many more were left? The floor was invisible from this height, and Celeste was already cringing at the thought of having to get all the way to ground floor. It seemed like this door wasn't a bad move. With very slight and slick movements, Celeste slowly cracked open the metal door in front of her. As it opened more and more, she started hearing voices talking. She started seeing bright, backlit screens in her perhiperal vision.

She peered around the corner of the door once it was open enough for her head to fit through. Immediately, she recoiled and slunk back against the wall near the stairs. She only saw them for a split-second, and she didn't know what they were doing huddling around a screen, but five guards with guns was enough to scare her.

Where could she go? There wasn't a way out of this. She couldn't take these guys out, even with the element of surprise. She couldn't run past them; the room looked pretty small. It was safe to assume this door was the only exit. But what if they left and saw her first? Was there another exit somewhere down the stairs? The clock in Celeste's mind was already ticking.

Suddenly, her earpiece crackled. She pressed it against her ear, trying to make out the garbled sounds coming through. There was only one phrase that she could decipher: "C4 downstairs."

Now that, she could understand. She sprinted down the stairs until she found it: A small, rectangular package laying on the bottom floor of the stairwell, which surprisingly wasn't nearly as far down as she though. She unwrapped the package and retrieved the bomb and detonator inside. Sprinting back up the stairs (which was a considerably harder and longer process), she started to think about what she was going to do.

Was this what she wanted? This bomb was going to kill five people. Five people with families and lives and dreams, things that they want to do and friends that they won't be able to talk to after Celeste presses a button. Is this the life of a runner? Someone who deems it necessary to kill anyone that's a threat to them?

But then, she remembered what she had been told when she signed up for the job. 'The enemy of free speech is the enemy of the world'. She was out on a mission, and anyone who got in her way was against the values that the runners stood for. And Mercury would never send runners out to kill anyone that wasn't against their cause. There are no options.

Celeste took a deep breath in front of the guards' door. In one fluid motion, she kicked open the door and threw the bomb directly on top of the screen the guards were looking at.

"What th—" One of the guards tried to grasp what was happening, but before they could even turn their heads, Celeste slammed the door shut and pressed the button.

A huge explosion shook the building. Celeste fell to the ground from the shockwave that had just hit her. She opened the door again to confirm her actions. It had actually happened. The black armor the guards were wearing was scattered in pieces all over the floor, and their blood had reached every corner of the room. She shut the door, sick with disgust. Five lives had ended in her hands, and the aftermath was nauseating, both in physical appearance and arguably morality. But she knew it was right. The enemy of free speech is the enemy of the world.

She walked back up the stairs, regaining her composure. At the top, she realized the bag she delivered was gone. How? Nobody had come in from up here or from the bottom floor, and definitely nobody came from the guards' room. She tried opening the door to the roof, and was greeted with bright sunlight. She was back on top of the building. She could see Merc's rooftop hideout across the way, a five foot gap seperating the structure it was on and the one she was on. She grew suspicious of her surroundings. Someone had unlocked the door and taken the bag.

"Mercury? Someone took the bag." She said, yet again receiving no response in return. There wasn't much she could do. She had no evidence of where the bag had been taken, and nothing to go off of. Her best bet was to contact Mercury in person. She ran over to the edge, jumped across the gap, and climbed back inside Mercury's hideout. There he was, sitting at his computer, sipping coffee, like nothing had happened.

Celeste sighed in defeat. "Mercury, I'm sorry. Someone took the bag."

"Yeah, the client did." Mercury said, turning his chair around to face her. "The dumb private security firm of that building across the street kept sniffing around over here, and I needed someone to take them out." It pieced together. The mission was simple because it was misleading. It was designed for new runners, even if it was coincidental.

"So...the bag..." Celeste was starting to get the picture.

"Didn't matter. Those guards were the real goal all along, and you handled a dangerous situation extremely well. Most runners crack under that pressure. Always be prepared for something that I don't brief you on." Celeste sighed. She didn't want to get yelled at on her first mission. It wasn't her fault, after all. But she was curious about what her next missions would be like.

"It doesn't always end up with killing, does it?" Celeste asked. She was still shell-shocked from her first encounter with the enemies of the runners.

"Not always. But be prepared to kill," Mercury's eyes narrowed. He was such an expert on this. Celeste wondered how long he'd been involved with runners. "And next time, you won't get any radio transmissions with weapon locations."

Celeste's mouth was agape for a moment. Her earlier suspicions were confirmed. Mercury had planned this out to test her. She was glad she passed. "Yes, sir."

Mercury gave her a look of perplexion. "What did you just call me? Jesus. This isn't the military, girl. Relax."

"Alright." Celeste sat down in the hideout. She looked around. There was wiring and monitors everywhere, communications channels were freely flowing and Mercury was able to track it all with a clear mind. There was even enough room for some furniture and a TV. It was quite a small place, but amazingly efficient. This was her new headquarters. She'd have to find a new place near here, to make it easier for her to mobilize. That didn't bother her. She was proud to be a runner. She was proud to stand up for what she believed in. She was ready for her next mission.


End file.
